


Graded

by denatured



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: 90's-verse, Academic Realism, Campus Fiction, Campus Grit, Dingy Apartment Drama, Drabble, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Jack is a Good Guy, Kitchen Sink Drama, Power Dynamics, Pre-Harley Quinn, Pre-Joker, Sexual Trauma, Slow Burn, Smut, Stripper!Harleen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:28:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28798383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/denatured/pseuds/denatured
Summary: After failing two exams, Harleen storms home and tries to drink away her anguish. Jack shows up and tries to make her feel better by, well, being Jack.
Relationships: Joker (DCU)/Harleen Quinzel
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	Graded

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this in one go and wanted to highlight Harleen's outside work as a stripper/dancer at Grin and Bare It. There is a graphic depiction of assault / dubious consent (depends on how you interpret the events as I've written them), so please ignore this if that's not your thing & take care of yourself! This slice of life is set shortly after the events of Build Me Up, Buttercup (https://archiveofourown.org/works/28350450/chapters/69461094).

Harleen sat by the window next to her fire escape on the eighth floor. She took a sip of lukewarm vodka from her _GU_ mug followed by a drag of her Newport menthol. She shuddered, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. She had just failed two exams, Cognition and Molecular Neurobiology- her only two classes for the semester. She took another sip of her vodka and winced. Her hair was wrapped in a tight bun atop her head, and she was wearing her unwashed _GU_ sweatpants and one of Jack’s t-shirts. She was in desperate need of a touch-up. Her frizzy, dark brown roots were fading into her brassy blonde tresses. Maybe she’d be able to swing by Delancey for an appointment after her next shift. They always gave her the works, and she would strut out of the salon feeling _in_ - _vin_ -cible. Goddamn it all, she couldn’t even remember what it was like to feel that _confident_. How did she manage to screw herself over this time? She hugged her knees to her chest as she blankly stared out the window and took another drag, feeling another sob lodge its way into her throat. She exhaled deeply and rested her forehead against her knees.

The lock snapped and turned on the door. She whipped her head up an around to see Jack shuffling into the apartment, stuffing his key back into his jeans pocket. Harleen sniffed and watched him slip off his boots and walk to the scratched coffee table, where he dropped his backpack to the side. He didn’t wear his army jacket today, just a pair of jeans and a slim black sweater, his ashy blonde hair in a tight ponytail at the nape of his neck. He must’ve come from campus. He spent more time in Harleen’s studio than he did in his own. Between classes, between experiments, when he wanted a hot meal, when he wanted a warm body, or even if he just wanted to run Harleen up the walls and have her _whack_ him with a pot spoon, he always found a reason to be there. But today, Harleen was absolutely _not_ in the mood.

He collapsed dramatically onto the sofa, resting his feet on the coffee table and digging through his pockets for his smokes. He wiggled his toes in his colorful socks. “So, uh,” he started, his voice punchy as he flicked his lighter, “you just gonna ignore my calls?”

Harleen sniffed. He called eight times, six while she was still in the lab and two on her landline. She couldn’t stomach a conversation with him after seeing her mid-semester transcript this morning. She slopped some reagents together, jotted some quick notes in her notebook, and abruptly left at 11:30AM. It was now 1:30PM.

He rolled his menthol to the corner of his mouth and looked at her expectantly. Harleen looked at him and felt the tears swell in her eyes. She buried her face into her knees and whimpered, “I failed my exams.”

Jack sucked on his cheek, nodding thoughtfully. “Yeah, I, uh, _know_. Ricky said he saw you stormin’ out of Main.”

“Fuckin’ Ricky,” Harleen whined as she broke into a sob. After several moments, she lifted her head, stray hairs stuck to her face and her eyes smudged with sticky tears and drugstore mascara. “I d-didn’t think you’d come,” she finally said, her voice deep. She was trying _hard_ to pull it together, for Jack’s sake. It wasn’t his fault that she was a _fuck-up_. He was the sweetest thing in her life, always cleanin’ up her messes and listening to her when she needed an ear. Sure, they messed around a few times when they had one too many at O’ Reilly’s, but it was really something special to her.

Jack shrugged. “Neither did I, but you decided to _run off_ and _hide_. So what did you want me to do?”

“Don’t you have experiments or somethin’?” she hiccupped.

“Ricky’s covering.”

“ _Fuckin’_ Ricky,” Harleen huffed.

Jack flicked his cigarette butt into the small ceramic bowl on the table. “Jack,” Harleen started, “ya know, I’m _really_ not doing so hot right now. Just- just please, could ya, um…”

“Wha _t_?” Jack retorted, crossing his arms behind head, “leave you here to _day drink_ like a fuckin’ suburban di-vor- _cee_ and black out before five?”

Something in Harleen snapped. “Are you _fuck_ -ing kidding me right now?” she asked harshly, laughing in disbelief at what she just heard. Jack was Harleen’s second skin, but for the love of God above, if Jack wanted to push, he pushed.

Jack kept his gaze at her, holding his tongue as his mouth fell into a thin line. “You gonna talk to me like that?” he asked.

“You don’t _get it_ ,” she said, trying to steady her voice, closing her eyes, and holding the bridge of her nose. “You’ve always gotten great grades, everybody fuckin’ _worships_ ya… Meredith called me a charity recruit, for cryin’ out loud. I am so sick and _tired_ of- of… _this_.' She quickly looked around and spotted her mug. She downed a mouthful of her vodka, coughing as she dropped the mug back onto the windowsill. “I can’t _do_ anything else. This is all I-”

“You don’t have to _do_ anything, Harl,” Jack interrupted.

Harleen grunted in frustration and turned her gaze to the ceiling. “Don’t _fucking start_ , Jack. Just _stop_ for once, okay? I _have_ to do this. I _don’t_ have anything else goin’ for me, you know that. Don’t act like you don’t know.” Oh, he _did_ know. Jack knew every major arc in Harleen’s past. She poured herself out and into him during their lazy hours spent watching reruns of _The Honeymooners_ and _Three’s Company_ on her musky couch.

They sat in silence for several beats before Jack sucked on his cheek again, rolling his head along his shoulders as he prepared to speak. Harleen knew that he _loved_ being dramatic at the worst times. It drove her red with rage and he ate every second of it. Sometimes, if he really got under her skin, she’d throw a weak punch at him, missing and busting her knuckles against the wall. He’d double over with laughter as she’d storm into the bathroom, running cold water over her hands and pouting angrily. She’d shout obscenities into the living room, only to have him walk into the bathroom and wrap two sturdy arms around her waist and bite her cheek, just the way that she liked.

“This, uh, whatever _this is_ ,” Jack gestured to her, “is not all you’re worth. These fuckin’ grades don’t _mean_ anything. It’s just to get these _Molly Sue_ sonsofbitches to _eat_ each other alive.”

“Jack, _puddin’_ , could you please just… leave?” Harleen sighed.

“Nope,” he shook his head, wiggling his toes.

Harleen furrowed her brows in annoyance at him. She couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t just drop it, take the piss, and leave. Then again, it was Jack. She knew that he was doing this for her own good, to teach her a lesson. Jack was always tryna teach her something new, almost every day. She had to admire him for that, but this “lesson” was downright _aggravating_. She took another mouthful of her vodka. She leaned out the window and coughed, hacking and spitting. She pulled herself back in and sniffed loudly as she felt her first hunger pangs all day.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, suddenly feeling courageous. “Nothin’ means anythin’ to you…” Harleen said barely above a whisper, “it’s always a joke wit’ you. Nothin’ matters. So why fuckin’ try? Why can’t you just cut it and leave today, huh?”

“Harl,” Jack started, calmly.

“What?” she said, looking out the window as she felt a fresh wave of tears hit her eyes.

“Look at me.”

“No.”

“ _Look at me_.”

Harleen turned her head to look at him, angry tears streaming down her blotched cheeks.

“Lemme tell you a little story. When I was fifteen, I failed a geometry exam. Fuckin’ _Pythagoras_ and all that trig shit. You know what happened to me when I got home?”

Harleen shrugged.

“Mom bashed my head into a wall- clean, left a dent and all. Woulda put a frame around it if she wasn’t evicted. I was so fed up that I didn’t go home for three days after that.”

“Where’d you go?” Harleen asked, suddenly curious.

“My aunt’s. Dad’s, uh, sister. Went back home, and ma wasn’t happy.”

“What ‘appened?” 

“Told me that education was all I got, and she wasn’t gonna raise a _junkie_ for a son if I kept failing. Didn’t give me much of, uh, choice. Threatened to throw me out if I kept fuckin’ up and embarrassin’ her.” Harleen nodded slightly. Jack continued.

“…So I worked odd jobs to earn enough cash to move out. Left when I was sixteen. Lived in a shithole but got a scholarship to college. Finished a year early-“

“You were _one of those_?” Harleen interrupted, a sour look on her face.

“Like _you_ weren’t.”

“I actually wasn’t-“

“ _Whatever_. Point is, now I’m here, dealing with _your shit_.”

“Oh, _bite me_.” 

“ _That’s_ all to say that I don’t care about _any of this_ anymore. And neither should you. What are we gonna do after this, huh?”

“I really don’t know anymore, Jack,” Harleen said despondently, looking down at her knees.

“Wrong,” Jack said, “you’re gonna do whatever you want. Work in a club, make some cash, do what _ever_ you wanted to do... As long as we’re, uh, _together_ , right?”

Red and black flashes of last night rolled into Harleen’s mind.

She remembered sitting on an older man’s lap, must’ve been in his late fifties. She sucked on his earlobe as he roughly fondled her breasts. She remembered the feel of his erection pressing against her sequined bodysuit.

“Gimme a ride, Princess,” he murmured into her bare shoulder.

Harleen hesitated. It was almost three in the morning, and the club was going to close. “Extra tip for a good girl,” he singsonged.

Harleen turned and snatched a half-filled shot glass on the table, downing it. She turned her attention back to the Businessman, throwing a leg over and straddling him, holding tight onto his lapels and languidly rolling her hips against his erection. He snaked his hand down and moved the crotch of her bodysuit aside. She bit her lip and shoved his hand away. “Nuh-uh-uh,” she said, smiling. He grinned, nodding in understanding. “I got ya, _girly_. Keep going. You’re doing a good job.”

Harleen wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned in to nibble on his ear as she picked up her pace and rubbed her crotch against his throbbing erection. He slid his hands down to her ass, giving it a tight squeeze. “Almost,” he panted, “b-but I need something more.” He quickly unzipped his fly, his fat erection popping out of his polyester suit pants. Harleen’s eyes widened, and she pulled away slightly. “S-sir, I’m not allowed to-“ she stammered.

“ _Girly_ , _come on_ ,” he said harshly, “what am I paying you for, huh?” Harleen cautiously lowered herself onto his cock. He pulled the crotch of her bodysuit aside. “Wanna feel like the real thing, am I right?” he laughed. Harleen laughed back. He sloppily rubbed her clit and wiggled a half a pudgy finger into her.

“Wish I could taste your sugar, girly, but it seems like you’re having a good time, _too_. Let’s finish our fun so that I can go home to the missus.” The Businessman pulled his hand away and guided Harleen’s hips onto his cock, her clit slick from the friction. “That’s it, baby,” he encouraged as Harleen rubbed herself against him, heat coiling into her core and her toes curling in her stilettos. She looked around nervously. “Eyes over here, girly,” the Businessman said. Harleen quickly looked back at him, smiling sweetly. She leaned in and kissed his sweaty cheek. “Sorry, sir,” she cooed.

“Maybe you’d be less distracted if I did something like this,” he panted.

“Huh?”

He quickly lifted her hips and pulled her onto his length, pushing his way inside her. Harleen threw a hand over her mouth and bit her lip hard, the taste of copper rolling onto her tongue. She leaned over his shoulder as he filled her uncomfortably, his cock twitching against her tight bundle of nerves. He thrusted quickly into her, holding her hips steady. Harleen looked around and saw her manager wiping down the bar in front of them. He looked at her briefly, nodding. “Finish up,” he said. Harleen nodded and returned her attention to the Businessman. She sank into him and rolled her hips, letting the feeling of the friction warm her core. “Gimme a winning smile, girly,” the Businessman said. Harleen rested her arms around his neck and leaned back, smiling toothily at him. “Whatta beauty,” he said as she felt his thrusts grow more erratic. She closed her eyes and bit her lip. His grip tightened on her hips. His belt buckled clanked noisily with each thrust, and Harleen ground herself against him. He groaned loudly as he suddenly came inside of her. She whimpered as she felt her own half-assed release. She slowly leaned forward and kissed him on the mouth. “Wanna taste for the road, sir?” she asked as she hopped on the table behind them, spreading her legs, his thick cum leaking out of her.

“Ya too good to me, girly, working hard for that extra tip! _God_ , I just love you,” he leaned in and hungrily lapped at her swollen pussy, his tongue making broad strokes. When he was finished, he leaned in and rubbed his nose against her clit, sucking it briefly before pulling away and kissing it. He looked up at her and smiled.

He left her a six-hundred-dollar tip and a business card. He worked for Wayne Enterprises like all the other beefeaters in town.

“ _Right_?” Harleen heard Jack ask again.

She shook her head and looked up at him. “Ya mean that?”

Jack cracked a lopsided grin. “What kinda guy puts up with _this_ if he wasn’t serious?”

Harleen giggled and wiped her eyes. “I’m still upset, though.”

“Yeah, yeah. C’mere already. I got you something.”

Harleen shook her head, a goofy smile spreading across her face. “You big goon,” she mumbled as she walked to the couch and sat next to him.

He dug into his pocket, pulling out a crumpled white paper bag. “Ta-da,” he said as he handed it to her. She quickly opened the bag to find a large squished doughnut. She laughed as she pulled out the powder-covered doughnut and inspected it. Bin- _go_ , she spotted a small hole with dark red jelly.

She laughed and felt tears stream down her face. Jack groaned. “What the _fuck_ is wrong now? Don’t you fucking _like these?_ I had to argue with Raj for one ‘cause he said that there were no more, but I knew that there was an extra in the back-"

Harleen hopped into Jack’s lap and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. “I don’t understand you sometimes,” Jack sighed as he lazily wrapped his arms around her. She pulled away and looked at him, biting into her doughnut and giving a thumbs up in approval. Jack gave her a crooked grin, chuckling at the powdered sugar all over her mouth. She looked like a train wreck, with leaking mascara, red cheeks, and a mouth covered in powdered sugar, but Harleen was Jack’s girl- even if she was a pain in his ass most of the time. “Don’t know what I’d do without you, pud’,” Harleen said, chewing. She leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth.

“Uh-huh. I know, baby,” he said, grabbing her chin and kissing her softly on the lips. Harleen slid off his lap and cuddled up next to him, taking another bite of her horribly squished pastry. She grabbed the remote and turned on the television. “Wanna watch a soap?” Harleen asked.

“Sure, I just love seeing these hotshot mob guys air their dirty laundry and get fucked,” Jack said, throwing an arm around Harleen’s shoulder. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading & tolerating my twisted writing- would love to hear what you think! xo. 
> 
> You can shoot me a message or prompt (!) @ https://synapticjive.tumblr.com/ if you'd prefer <3


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